


Xiphoid

by schwertlilie



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Child Death, Conjoined Twins, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Non-Chronological, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-14 22:38:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5761570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schwertlilie/pseuds/schwertlilie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matthew and Alfred are a pair of formerly-conjoined twins, who don't remember being joined - or how they were separated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Xiphoid

**Author's Note:**

> From the kink meme, [here](http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/17465.html?thread=58108217#t58108217), November 2010.

Lukas = Netherlands, Niels = Denmark, Christiania = [Freestate Christiania](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Freetown_Christiania) (a microstate in Denmark)

~ ~ ~

**.2010.**

If he'd known all it would take to get Matthew into his bed was a hockey game and a fantastic overtime goal, Alfred would have done this _years_ ago. He didn't even mind that it was the Sabres versus the Penguins, or that the kid had scored on Miller again, not with the way Matthew was pressing up against him, pulling Alfred's shirt from his pants. His jersey slipped- Alfred kissed Matthew's collarbone, set himself to raising the biggest hickey that ever hickied, 'cause Matt was finally in his bed tonight.

Matthew laughed as Alfred pushed him back onto the bed, didn't stop when Alfred covered his mouth with his. Alfred grinned in response, tasting warm beer and Matthew and it should have been gross, but he'd dreaming of this for years. No more need to jerk off to fantasies, wondering what Matthew would feel like, taste like, smell like above-below-inside him, he could _know_.

Matthew arched up into him, and oh _god_ they really were both hard, they were doing this and it wasn't just in Alfred's mind. Matt's hands slid up, under his shirt, and he dragged his warm palms along Alfred's back.

"Off," Matt said with a tug on Alfred's shirt.

"Your wish is my command," he murmured against his skin, then leaned back and pulled the t-shirt off, threw it into the corner. He caught Matt giving him a once over, grinned. "Like what you see?"

"Looks kind of like what I see in the mirror every day."

"Didn't answer my question."

"Well," he said, drawing out the word as he sat up, set his hands on Alfred's hips. "Why don’t you come down here and find out?"

Alfred kissed him again, Matthew opening to him just like he opened to Matthew. Matt's thumbs dipped beneath the waist of his jeans, rubbed his hipbones.

"Oh god-"

"You like that?"

" _Yes_."

Matthew hummed, kissed a line down Alfred's chest, his thumbs never stopping. When Matt tipped his head to nip at Alfred's pectoral, the jersey slipped again and Alfred could see the knob at the top of Matt's spine. He wanted to kiss it, to bite down on it as he took Matthew from behind. His hand came up, touched the bone at the same time Matthew pulled away, frowning.

"Did I do something-?"

"No, it's..." He ran his finger along the scar below Alfred's breastbone. It wasn't even three inches long, not wide at all. "Where did you get this?"

"Arthur told me I fell on a stove when I was little." He shrugged. "Don't remember it, but he'd know."

"That's what Francis said."

"So why'd you ask?"

"No-" Matthew harrumphed and leaned back just far enough to pull his jersey off, over his head. He pointed at his chest. "Francis told me the same about mine."

Alfred touched the thin band of scar tissue. "They match."

"And I don't think we'd both have run into the same stove the same way."

They looked at each other for a long moment, until Alfred turned away. "I used to have dreams," he said quietly, "of running through a forest, and never being alone."

"Of stretching, but never tearing."

"Trying to go in two different directions, but I always won."

"... Shit."

Alfred looked back at that. "Matt?"

He was looking at the bed, fingers bunched in his jersey. "Can we... Can we just touch tonight, Al?"

"Sure." He kissed the crown of his brother's head, the mood broken for him too. "Whatever you want."

Matt nodded, slid away to strip down to his boxers. Alfred shucked his jeans & Texas and climbed under the covers, his toes finding the warm spot while he held the sheets up for Matt. Matt flicked off the light then settled against him, face to face and chest to chest, and how could he ever have forgotten this? Forgotten the way they aligned?

Half an hour later Alfred still couldn't sleep, mind turning in circles; at least Matt didn't seem to have trouble-

"Al?" he whispered.

-Sleeping. "Yeah?"

"Is it bad if I still want you?"

He took a breath, let it out. "Only if it's bad that I still want you too."

"Oh." He touched their noses together. "Okay then."

Sleep came easy after that.

~ ~ ~

**.2009.**

"-So then Niels came in, wondered what the smell from my half of the room was from. He searched the luggage and founds Feliciano's oregano. Then he went to Christiania and accused her of-" Lukas cut off as the server brought their plates - crusted chicken and salad, tonight.

"Thank you," Matthew said to the server. Once he was gone, Matthew began to cut his chicken breast in bite-sized pieces. "And he accused her of...?"

"Of smuggling weed into a conference she wasn't supposed to attend. Which is true."

Matthew smiled, took a piece of the chicken; spat it back out. Damn, and he'd been looking forward to dinner too...

"You all right?"

"Sorry, reflex." He folded his napkin, managed a smile. "It's the almonds. I'll be back once I've rinsed my mouth out."

Lukas nodded, but Matt could feel him watching all the way to the double doors.

Alfred was already in the bathroom, gargling; Matt took the sink beside him.

Alfred spat into the sink. "Almonds get you too?"

"Yeah." He swished water around his mouth, spat it out. "I wish I knew what makes us do that."

"And it started too early to blame it on all the food 'sensitivities' around today." Al patted him on the back. "See you back out there, bro."

"You too." Matthew took another mouthful of water as the washroom door swung shut.

~ ~ ~

**.1659.**

Francis looked down at the custards. "Is this really a good idea, Arthur?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "You're having second thoughts _now_?"

"Not so much 'second thoughts,' as concerns about the necessity of this."

"We agreed that having the two colonies bound together so tightly is both unnatural and useless." He sprinkled the last of the cyanide crystals over the two dishes. "Everything's already in place."

"I know, I simply-" He sighed, extended his hand. "I'll take them in."

"As you like."

The twins smiled at him as he entered the dining room, Alfred bouncing on his side of the bench.

"You made dessert too!"

Matthew didn't seem bothered by the way Alfred's movement stretched the band of skin between them; he never did. "Francis _never_ lets Arthur cook, remember?"

"I do on occasion," Francis said as he set the custards in front of the boys. "When I feel like torturing Antonio."

Alfred took his spoon in his chubby hand and dug straight in, but Matthew hesitated. "You and Arthur don't have any?"

Arthur sat down in his (fancy, over-carved, ostentatious) chair. "No, lad, we had enough to eat at dinner."

Matthew nodded, and began eating his dessert.

Arthur and Francis kept up small talk while the boys ate - politics at home, biological minutiae, the vagaries of fashion.

Finally, Alfred blurted out "I'm cold."

"You may not leave the table until you've both finished your dessert," Arthur said.

"Maaaaatt."

"Finish yours too," Matthew said, but he ate more quickly, and soon there were two more empty dishes on the table.

Arthur inspected them, nodded. "You may be excused, boys."

Alfred smiled, and practically dragged his twin out the door and up the stairs, chattering about cheap bastards who don't use enough wood on the fire.

Francis looked at his hands, then Arthur. "I'll start the dishes, then."

He nodded, placed his napkin on the table. "I'll get my tools."

Francis watched him leave, and remembered that they were making the right choice - for themselves, and the boys. He just hoped the twins both fell asleep before their brother died - this was hard enough without hearing them cry.

**Author's Note:**

> Alfred and Matthew here are xiphopagus twins - attached by a thin band of tissue just below the breastbone/sternum. It's a less common join (~3%), but I chose it because it's the simplest to separate, as the only vital organ shared is the liver and sometimes not even that. The tissue is stretchy, and with practice the twins can stand side-by-side. For an example, look up Chang and Eng Bunker, the original "Siamese Twins."  
> <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Conjoined_twins>
> 
> Hopefully this is clearer than the meme version. >>; The twins were "killed" with cyanide (hence the almonds thing), since this was the days before good anaesthetics and cyanide is a fairly simple poison, and cut apart by Arthur before they woke up. (Symptoms of cyanide overdose include feeling cold, perceived trouble breathing, and coma -> death.)
> 
> Thanks to everyone who commented on the kink meme post, and to the OP for the prompt – I had fun poking through medical journals for this. :)
> 
> PS: Buffalo Sabres vs Pittsburgh Penguins = Ryan Miller vs Sidney "Sid the Kid" Crosby, just like in the 2010 Olympics. Random hockey references ftw?  
> 


End file.
